The Mercs Take Florida
by EnderGirl
Summary: Sequel to the epic adventure The Mercs Take New York, our nine idiots are going out once more to a very different part of the U.S...stay tuned for Airline food, sunburnt Bostonians, and crazed everglade locals. And if you haven't already, read the first one before this one!
1. Prolouge: Everyone hates Mondays

*shuffles papers awkwardly, peeking around corner* H-hello everyone...I'm still here, and still alive. Only problem...I got a job. I know I always preach about pre writing as well, but I just couldn't leave you guys hanging anymore, and I only have about four chapter written. Don't expect updates to come as quickly as they did with TMTNY, but I love you all and I hope you all are still here even after my hiatus. Please, enjoy my silly story. 3

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The post traumatic shock of living in Florida never goes away, yet part of me is forever attatched to that eccentric, heat-infested swamp." – Jennifer Harrison

"This is how you do it: you sit down at the keyboard and put one word after another until it's done. It's that easy and that hard." –Neil Gaiman

 **The Mercs Take Florida**

 **Prologue: Everybody hates Mondays.**

He really hated Mondays.

Really, _really_ hated Mondays.

Medic swore in German, Russian, French, English, and any other language he could recall as Heavy went down like a sack of bricks.

More like a sack of cinder blocks.

Or steel beams.

What was Spy _doing_? He was supposed to be taking care of the BLU Sniper, who was on a high today, downing their team left and right. Stupid Frenchman probably stepped out back to have a smoke. Medic stomped off to the respawn room, ignoring the BLU Demoman who was shouting slurred insults across the field at them.

"ZHERE you are!" Medic snarled as he saw Spy in the corner, clutching a bucket in one hand, the other hand over his stomach. The doctor shoved his anger away immediately when he saw Spy in this state. He was hardly ever sick on his stomach. "Are you allright?" Medic demanded impatiently, glancing back every so often to see if Heavy had respawned yet.

"Yes, I am doing _just peachy_ , Docteur," Spy rasped, his voice dripping with sarcasm. Well, he felt 'peachy' enough to be an ass, apparently. Spy stood and straightened out his suit, stumbling momentarily from dizziness.

"Is it ze Pyro?" Medic asked, trying to hide a smile. Amusement must have crept into his voice, however, because Spy shot him a murderous glare.

"Yes, it's ze Pyro. I swear, whatever drugs they're giving 'im 'ave 'im seeing me, even when I'm cloaked. It's ridiculous." Spy snorted and checked his gun to make sure he had ammo.

"Vell, try and vork on getting ze Sniper. He's getting a bit too cocky for his own good," Medic replied with a sniff and Spy nodded curtly, cloaking with a wisp of smoke before he stepped out of the respawn room.

Medic had two options. He could wait for Heavy to respawn, which could take anywhere from twenty seconds to twenty minutes…or he could go fighting tooth and claw with the rest of his team, healing with one hand and removing heads from necks with the other.

Meh.

That's how Medic had been feeling lately: Meh. Everything had fallen into a dull monotony. Oh, we won? Great. Oh, we lost? Boo. Oh, I just ripped the BLU Medic's arm out of its socket with sheer strength? Cool. He wasn't sure what it was…maybe he was just getting old. Of course, that was always his immediate response to any new emotion he felt. Sighing, he waited around for a few more seconds to see if Heavy would appear before he charged out of the respawn room.

He _liked_ being in this war, more than the average person would like to be risking their lives in a hail of gunfire. But…they weren't risking their lives. Medic had never been a very introspective person…but seriously, what was the point anymore? He had become so numb to little things that would make anyone else faint / vomit on the spot.

"Medic!" he heard to his left and he instantly halted, turning almost automatically towards the sound. It hadn't been terribly urgent but there was nothing else to do, so might as well see what the trouble was.

It was Engineer, leaning heavily against the wall, cradling his organic hand in his gloved one. Medic jogged once he saw who it was; Dell was a good friend. Smart, compassionate, more of a 'tender love' kind of person when the team stopped reacting to Medic's tough love. Sometimes he could be annoying, what with all his 'southern charm', but Medic genuinely enjoyed being around him. And he felt concern when he saw his obviously broken wrist…something that respawn could heal improperly if he didn't help him first. He was already missing one hand; he wouldn't appreciate Medic having to re-break the bone or worse…amputate.

"Engineer! Sit here, vhat happened?" Engineer gratefully slumped to the floor, grunting in pain as his arm was jostled. Medic thought it strange that he was all the way out here, not tending to his machines…and how had he even broken his arm in the first place? Perhaps he'd just wandered out here looking for the doctor.

"S-so glad you're here, doc…I do b'lieve ah've gone and-" he broke of here to grit his teeth in agony. "…gone and messed up my other arm." He gave a weak laugh but Medic didn't offer any laughter in return.

He still felt that twinge of uncertainty.

"Vell, let's see vhat ve can do. Tell me, how did zhis happen?" Medic took his heavy, thickly muscled forearm in his hands and rotated it around, earning a hiss of pain from the Engineer.

"Shoot, where do I start? It was just me and th'BLU Soldier. He came at me like a vulture to a gut wagon and knocked me down, then one of my toolboxes fell and crushed my wrist. Demo took care of the Soldier, and I wandered out all over hell and yonder lookin' for ya." He gave a weak smile.

"You say your toolbox crushed your wrist?" Medic said nonchalantly, running his expert fingers over the break again.

"Crushed it. A sixty plus pound metal container doesn't take too kindly to skin an' bones," he winced again as Medic touched it.

"Zhis is a closed fracture. A clean break. Nozhing vas crushed." Medic said simply.

"Smart man," Engineer replied in a voice that _certainly_ wasn't his slow, easy drawl. Before he could stand, Medic had his hands around his throat, digging his thumbs into his vulnerable Adam's apple.

The Spy choked for a moment as his disguise was ruined and Medic still clung on, feeling his blood pumping.

This was _just_ the thing he needed to break up the monotony.

The Spy feigned that he was losing his life, and in Medic's excitement he fell for the age old trick and began tightening his grip, eager to drain the light from his eyes faster. Then the Spy grinned and brought up both his hands, clapping them over Medic's ears.

Silence.

Medic felt his vision lurch and a horrible, horrible ringing filling his ears. Involuntary tears sprang into his eyes at the pain and he immediately knew he'd lost this battle. He couldn't hear, and he felt like vomiting from the vertigo. Still, he gritted his teeth and forced himself to focus on the Spy who was watching this scene with a self-satisfied smile curled into his cheeks, somehow having the sheer _audacity_ to be lighting a cigarette at this point in time.

With a roar, Medic charged at him.

The Spy always underestimated Medic's speed.

The skinny Frenchman felt his teeth clack together and every bone in his body jar as he was sent to the ground, the crushing weight on the doctor on top of him.

"I vant to vatch you bleed into ze dust," Medic growled with a smile and produced his bone saw from the belt around his lab coat, teasing it just above the BLU Spy's throat. "Or maybe I should perform a bit of…emergency field surgery. Maybe I'll give you your own femur to bite down on for ze pain," Medic felt his heart beat quicken even more, his vision beginning to haze over with red. A small part of him was still quietly warning him not to get like this…but he was far too gone. "I'm going to enjoy zhis," he said, breaking into high pitched giggles as he raised the bone saw, every muscle in his body tight, ready to strike.

There was a blow to the side of his head and a crunch he felt echo through his entire body.

He was dead from a broken neck before he could even register it was the BLU Scout who had killed him with a swing from his bat, and was now shouting creative insults at his dead body, cleaning the blood off his bat with his lab coat before the body disappeared.

Geez.

He could really use a vacation.

 **Next time on The Mercs Take Florida:**

"Vacation. That is terrible idea. Do you not remember last 'vacation' we had?" he shook his head, slightly grimacing at the memories.


	2. Ch1: Stolen Trash and Pregnant Dogs

*looks down* *it's been a week since I updated* WHAT HAPPENED TO THE TIME HERE YA GO.

Also things don't really get funny until the next chapter. Yeah...

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 **Chapter one: Stolen Trash and Pregnant Dogs**

The anger stirring amongst the men was so hot and tangible you could have knocked it out of the air. They hadn't lost that badly in a long time, not since BLU got a new Heavy they all had to get used to. After Medic had been killed by their Scout, he'd been stuck in respawn for longer than normal, and when he did finally come to, the battle was over.

Muttered obscenities fell thickly upon the evening air as they trudged through the cooling sand back to base. Scout was walking with a prominent limp and Soldier had his helmet off, worrying it with one hand while the other was over an eye that he probably wouldn't see out of until Medic could tend to him. Something was about to break. They could all feel it.

And of course, it broke in the form of everyone's favorite deafening, buck-twenty, baseball enthusiast.

"Yo, where WERE you today?" Scout reeled around as soon as they made it in base and turned on Medic. "Demo was callin' for you for like twenty minutes! I had to go get a health kit for him!" Scout glanced towards Demo as if the Scotsman would help his argument but he just gave a grunt and flopped unceremoniously on the couch, wincing as he stretched out his aching muscles. Medic would have felt the sneer on his lips if he could; his face was still numb from the broken neck respawn.

"It's not like I vas purposefully neglecting him! I vas a bit busy viz others things." He took this opportunity to shrug off his heavy lab coat, covered in blood that he should probably wash out immediately but couldn't be bothered. He draped it over the back of a kitchen chair and pushed up the sleeves of his dress shirt, gritting his teeth against a bad burn across the top of his forearm that was at least second degree and had singed off all his arm hair.

"Yes, 'e was too busy playing ball with ze other Scout," Spy said lowly from the door, his usually smooth voice rough with exhaustion. He had been the last to enter and looked even more disgusted with life than he usually did. Medic's only reply was a quiet snarl as he continued poking at his burn.

"So what, are ya gonna treat yourself before ya even look at anyone else?" Scout yelled indignantly from the floor where he was sitting, clutching a hand on the underside of his left thigh, blood oozing through his fingers.

"Maybe if you'd stop displaying zat crooked mess inside your mouth you call _teeth,_ I'd have a look at your leg!" Medic snapped, baring his own almost too-perfect teeth in response. Scout's face turned bright red and he slapped a hand over his mouth, giving the doctor a murderous glare.

"Will y'all just can it? We're all tired and we had a rough day." Engie sighed from the kitchen where he was rubbing the back of his neck wearily.

"I disagree! We need to settle this like Americans!" Soldier demanded from where he was near Engie, stomping his foot like a child.

"Non. I'm going to bed. Ze bushman's piss fumes are making me light 'eaded. More so than usual." Spy wrinkled his nose and cast Sniper a glance, a smug smile playing on his lips. Sniper was busy washing the coffee pot and he almost mechanically slowed in his washing.

"Hey, Scout?" he spoke up quietly.

"Yeah?"

"How do you know if a Frenchie's been in yer yard?" Sniper placed the pot down gently and he turned around to face the boy. He had a glint of cruelty in his eyes that was _very_ unlike him.

"How?" Scout said, already grinning, awaiting the punchline.

"All ya trash is gone and yer dog's pregnant!" Sniper delivered it, following up with barking laughter. Scout joined in, adding his own braying guffaw to the mix until Sniper's laughter was suddenly cut short by a gunshot.

Almost in slow motion, everyone turned to see Sniper by the sink, dead, but still standing like in some surreal horror film. He swayed momentarily, blood gushing from his mouth before he crumpled on the ground, red spattered on the window behind him like a macabre Jackson Pollock piece.

Spy was standing with his revolver still raised, the cigarette clenched between his teeth so hard it was bent in half.

Spy's hand shook momentarily before he pocketed his gun, drawing in a breath he hadn't realized he'd been depriving himself of.

Medic wasn't sure what was worse. The fact Spy had murdered another teammate right in front of everyone, or the fact that they all weren't really that shocked by it.

"What is the matter with you." Engie said softly. It wasn't a question, it was more of a statement.

"I-I do apologize. I'm not sure what came over me." Spy stammered, swallowing hard.

"Vell, vhat are you standing around here for?!" Medic spat, making Spy jump in surprise, snapping him out of his dark reverie. "Go meet him in ze respawn room, IF he's zhere!" Medic's face darkened as he glanced over to Sniper's body which was thankfully beginning to go through the respawn process. Spy backed away a bit and gave everyone an even look before walking swiftly out of the base, making his way to the respawn room.

Everyone else lay on the floor in exhaustion or nursed wounds that either happened after the battle was over or respawn didn't fix. Medic sighed and made his way over to Soldier who took his hand away for the doctor to examine his eye. It must have been bad because Soldier wasn't yelling about how the patriotism coursing through his veins granted him to feel no pain, and he wasn't trying to fix it himself. He just sort of sat down and did as he was told. Again, very out of character. Medic cleaned him up and then turned to finally tend to Scout but the boy was triumphantly holding up a bullet, his hands soaked with blood, his face deathly pale.

"S-see? Don't need ya help, ya crazy K-Kraut," he swallowed thickly and muttered something about going to sleep as his hand fell limply to his side. He was probably going to bleed out soon. No one made a move to prevent that.

The door burst open again and Spy stormed in with his head partially tipped back, blood steadily pouring out of his nose. Medic stepped forward to help him but Spy stopped his with a sharp gesture and he disappeared down the corridor. Medic felt a hot wash of misplaced anger and he bid everyone a venomous goodnight before following Spy in the same fashion. He was just near enough to hear Scout say:

"Hey big guy, why don't you go tuck ya boyfriend in before he shoves us all in an oven?"

The remark was immediately followed by a loud slap and a yelp from Scout.

All Medic felt was the familiar gnawing guilt / rage combination churning in his midsection as he slowly entered the infirmary and practically collapsed on the other side of the door, slumping to the ground, his face buried in his hands.

Since when had they become so dysfunctional? When most of them joined this job, they didn't even realize they'd be working with other men. At first they'd done their best to avoid one another, starting off with awkward pats on the back after a job well done or a shared beer or a quiet laugh…but slowly, very slowly, they'd all grown on each other. Coworkers turned into acquaintances, acquaintances turned into friends, and friends eventually turned into brothers. Brothers who drank together merrily and played poker, laughing until their sides split and crying about lost love together. _Together._ Of course, they sometimes killed each other. Either from drunken fist fights or sober fist fights over anything from political stances to rugby teams. Sometimes it was from trying to accomplish some ridiculous stunt, or competing in a rousing game of "who can lose the most fingers before they pass out".

But never in cold blood.

Never in the purposeful unbridled rage and exhaustion Spy displayed tonight.

The door against Medic's back vibrated with knocking and he sighed slightly in relief and annoyance. There was only one person it could be. He stood and cracked his neck before opening the door and welcoming Heavy in. The Russian entered slowly and then turned around, crossing his huge arms over his barrel chest, assessing the doctor's state.

"Have come to tuck my boyfriend in." he said, amusement on his face. Medic, however, remained irritated. Heavy let the smile drop and he sighed greatly, his arms falling to his sides. "Scout does not mean what he says."

"You're making excuses for him now?" Medic snapped, harsher than he meant to.

"Not excusing him. Explaining him." Heavy said simply. "Besides, Demo smacked him across room." This bit of information did cause Medic to smile and Heavy grinned as well, laying a massive hand on his shoulder. The warm weight alleviated Medic's inner turmoil and he sighed, instinctively leaning into his friend.

"I zhink ve all need a break. Like a vacation." Medic said, not able to hide the laughter that broke his statement. Heavy snorted in disbelief.

"Vacation. That is terrible idea. Do you not remember last 'vacation' we had?" he shook his head, slightly grimacing at the memories.

"Oh, yes. Yes. I remember. It vas only a joke, don't vorry," they stood in silence for awhile before Medic asked if Heavy would keep him company while he did paperwork.

The answer, of course, was yes.

 **Next time on The Mercs Take Florida:**

"Just hurry. He's _pissed."_ At this Scout gave a little whimper and dashed down the hall where muffled French shouting could be heard.


	3. Ch2: Merde Alors

I'm going to be a senior in two weeks.

*nervously sweats and smiles to pretend like everything is okay*

Enjoy my stupid story.

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 **Chapter Two: Merde Alors…**

Medic woke to a pounding at his infirmary door. His eyes shot open and he sat up quickly, nearly toppling onto the floor in his haste, tangling himself in his blankets. Disregarding proper clothes and even breaking into a jog to make it to the door in time, he did pause to adjust his glasses. Someone must have been hurt severely to warrant the jackhammer-like knocking, the noise rousing his doves which cooed in annoyance, shifting in the rafters. He flung it open and was almost punched in the face by a hand wrapped in boxing attire: Scout.

"Vhat in Gott's name are you—STOP, SCOUT!" Scout was still attempting to knock even with no door there. Upon being reprimanded he took to a nervous fluttering of his hands.

"Somethin's wrong with Spy. We got a letter from… _Her."_ He said this in a hushed voice and bit his lower lip. Medic rolled his eyes, knowing the boy was probably overreacting. "And-and Spy's like, ready to kill somebody again. He already read it but he ain't readin' it again until everybody's in the rec room." Scout was now bouncing on the balls of his feet in anticipation. Medic sighed, rubbing his face with his hand in a gesture of exasperation.

"Vell vhat's he doing? Shooting Australians?" Medic mumbled the last bit under his breath as waited impatiently for Scout to answer.

"Just hurry. He's _pissed."_ At this Scout gave a little whimper and dashed down the hall where muffled French shouting could be heard.

Medic gave a great sigh and turned back to dress himself. Spy was just going to have to wait. He wasn't hurrying on anyone's accord. He—

Medic jumped as he heard a crash from down the hall followed by a string of muffled French swearing.

Maybe he'd pick up the pace just a bit.

By the time Medic was hurriedly dressed and walking swiftly down the hall the crashes and yelling had quieted down and he turned into the living room to see Spy half sitting-half standing on the counter, his arms crossed tightly over his skinny frame, his eyes narrowed into slits, angrily puffing a cigarette. In one hand was a crumpled letter in a lavender envelope. Upon seeing Medic, Spy stood rigidly and thrust the letter at the doctor.

"Read. It." He demanded, his voice low. Medic raised an eyebrow and turned to the rest of the men who were sitting quietly. They had already endured Spy's wrath, and they were bracing themselves for Medic's. Even Scout had his hands in his lap, his mouth shut, his leg bouncing wildly. Medic took the letter out gingerly and opened it; it was quite crumpled from where Spy had been gripping it.

"Should I…read it to myself before I read it aloud?" Medic glanced at Spy who was still fuming.

"Just READ IT!" he spat with a wild and vague gesture.

Medic cleared his throat and began reading out loud.

 _"_ _Dear RED,_

 _Ms. Pauling here. Don't worry, this isn't a letter from the administrator herself so you can all calm down. However, you should be thanking me because I stopped her from making a surprise visit much less write a letter. She's not too pleased with you guys._

 _Stalemates, losing streaks, lazy performance…and now you're shooting each other in the head? Respawn isn't flawless technology and it's a pain to train new recruits, you know. She thought a punishment was in order for the sloppiness you've all been executing._

 _We're sending you all on a vacation._

 _At first she protested this, saying that it was a reward but I assured her, it was not._

 _Pack for warm weather._

 _Sniper will drive you all to the airport._

 _-Pauling"_

All of the men fell into a stunned silence. No one even dared to breathe.

"I _refuse._ " Spy sniffed. These two words sparked the entire room exploding.

"Are you KIDDIN'? Does she even remember what happened last time? I STILL can't breathe right from when Engie slugged me in tha face!"

"Mmph mhfph mph….!"

"I HAVE RUN OUT OF COLORS TO USE ON MY MAP TO BLOCK OUT STATES I'M BANNED FROM. YOU COMMIES CAN'T DRAG ME OUT OF THIS BASE!"

"Fellahs, let's all just calm down a second, maybe this ain't so bad!"

"Engie's right! We all dinnae have a bad time in New York! Ai fer one could use a break from this hellhole!"

"This is bad idea."

"Oi'm not goin' out of respawn range so long as the frog's comin'."

"Ce est le plus stupide , chose la plus idiote jamais écrit sur le papier beaucoup moins imaginé ! Je refuse! Je préférerais mourir plutôt que—"

"RUHIG!" Medic barked at the men, silencing them. He glared at the paper, willing it to burst into flames with his brain power.

It remained unharmed.

Instead, he settled for balling it up with a shout of anger, flinging it across the room. Medic turned on Spy, his steel gray eyes hard.

"Call her. Now." He hissed through gritted teeth and Spy nodded curtly, disappeared out of the base to make it to the old decrepit pay phone they had around back. Medic contemplated going with him but from the way Demo was glaring at Soldier and the way Scout looked like he was about to bolt…he gave Engie a look that said 'you're-in-charge' and he followed Spy out the door.

"…be serious…" Medic picked up a bit of Spy's conversation as he neared and he hurried before he hung up. Spy looked up briefly as Medic approached and then returned to his broken position over the phone, his eyes closed in defeat. "Medic wants to talk to you." Spy said bluntly before he thrust the phone at the doctor and then stood near enough to hear Ms. Pauling as well.

"What seems to be the trouble, Doctor?" Ms. Pauling said from the other end, her clipped voice suggesting she had better things to do than deal with a little, angry Frenchman.

"Fraulein…" Medic breathed, not even sure what to say. "Just…vhy? Vhat's at stake if we refuse zis punishment?"

"Your jobs." She replied swiftly. "Your jobs, your pay, your promised amnesty for past involvements. The Administrator does not take lazy mercs lightly."

"Ve are not _lazy._ " Medic protested, the own statement feeling hollow on his lips. He knew there was no getting around this.

"Come on, doctor. You've all been slacking in your duties. What was the word you used last night…numb? In your conversation with the Heavy?" she said this with a hint of smugness attached to her voice. Maybe Medic had imagined it. He stiffened nonetheless.

They all knew they were being monitored. Just sometimes it was easier to forget than acknowledge it. Even in this moment, Spy gauged Medic's reaction to the mention of him and Heavy behind closed doors. As usual, nothing was given away.

 _Infuriating Kraut._

 _Nosy frog._

"This vacation will be good for you, Josef." Ms. Pauling added softly. Medic groaned, half in defeat and half in acceptance.

"Can you at least tell us vhere ve're going?" he pinched the bridge of his nose as he said this, elbowing Spy off of him. He was nearly on top of Medic trying to hear what Ms. Pauling was saying.

"Just pack for warm weather."

"Ms. Pauling…we already live in ze desert…" Spy grabbed the receiver with a slightly amused tone of voice. "It cannot get much hotter than it already is 'ere."

"Oh-hoh, yes it can. Your suit will be drenched the moment you step off the plane." And with that, she hung up. Medic and Spy looked at each other briefly before Medic gave a little smirk, flicking one of Spy's lapels.

"You heard her. _Drenched._ "

 **Next time on The Mercs Take Florida:**

If there was one place that you weren't allowed to act weird, it was an airport.


	4. Ch3: Plains, Trains, and Automobiles

***life repeatedly punches me in the face* Sorry this update is so late...work, registering for school, EVERYTHING. Anyway. HERE.**

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Several adjectives could be associated with a camper van whose sole caretaker was a lanky, less than hygienic Australian.

Medic had only been in the back a few times, once to perform emergency open heart surgery on a man they'd accidentally run over whilst heading to town, and then the few times the team was required at HQ, or the one other time they went on vacation.

The ONE other time they were on vacation.

In which Scout almost died (shocking), Sniper wore a suit, Scout and Spy nearly got killed by a street gang, everyone was thrown in jail, Medic ripped a cop's throat out with his teeth, and they all got banned from New York.

Good times.

"C'mon doc, we ain't got all day." Scout said half-heartedly from where they were all piddling around the van, not really wanting to get into it. Sighing, Medic stepped into the van with his luggage and suppressed the rude comments that came to mind. Sniper kept it clean for the most part, but there was still that underlying hint that everything was just… _unwashed._ And that thought alone was making Medic twitch, his impulses to suddenly start cleaning jumping in his chest.

"You go' shotgun last tiem ya bloody half git!" they all heard a Scotsman snarl.

"And I'm going to get shotgun zis time as well. You're not _important_ enough for shotgun!"

There was a brief scuffling noise and a thump outside the camper. Everyone looked with mild interest at who would be joining them in the backseat.

Turned out to be a silently livid Frenchman holding his jaw and giving everyone a stare that challenged them to say something.

The airport was a good distance away from the base. Well, _everything_ was a good distance away from the base. It would take them at least three hours to arrive, and then the agonizing wait in the airport, then the actual flight. Medic took a spot on the Murphy bed against the far wall and for the first time he noticed just how small it was. Sniper wasn't a large man but he _was_ exceedingly tall. Medic frowned at this and continued frowning as everyone loaded themselves in and Demo triumphantly buckled himself in the front seat. Well…'buckled' was a loose term. It was actually a piece of fraying rope that looped into another piece across his lap.

"Sniper how on earth do you sleep in zhis bed?" Medic finally asked. He was a good bit shorter than Sniper but he couldn't even stretch himself out on it.

"Wot?" Sniper peered at him through the rear view mirror. "Oi curl up."

"Zat must be vhy your back is so bad…" Medic mused out loud. It wasn't terribly comfortable either.

"Well wha about if ye have a _lady_ friend over?" Demo teased him. Sniper mumbled something unintelligible and pulled his hat farther down. Scout scoffed from his seat on the floor beside Pyro.

"Dat old fart ain't gettin' no lady friends, are you kiddin' me?" he paused for a moment, grinning with his buck teeth. "'Sides, Spy don't take up that much room." He burst out laughing at his own joke and how the Frenchman sneered at him. Spy usually lit into him about how he would never, under ANY circumstances, not even if he was the last human being on the face of the earth, not if his life, not if his JOB depended on it, would he ever sleep with the bushman. Sniper usually just got red faced about how he should take his queer crap out of the base and Spy would reply with a smoke ring and a wink.

But Spy apparently didn't feel like repeating himself so he just huffed and looked out the window.

There wasn't a window near Medic, so he just sat and looked at his hands, pondering where in the world they could possibly be headed.

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 **Albuquerque International Sunport**

Medic sighed as he squinted up at the sign. Surprisingly, there weren't that many people and for that he was glad. Once everyone was out of the van and it was taken away, Medic herded everyone around like a teacher gathering children for a field trip, ready to drill them on the buddy system.

Except this wasn't a kind, young, pretty faced teacher. This was an exhausted, grumpy German who just wanted to get these idiots on the plane and off again.

"Uh…I hate ta be tha one to point dis out but…what're we gonna do about Pyro?" Scout said, glancing at the firebug who was crouched down, intently watching a line of ants trailing dutifully across the concrete.

"I believe I 'ave ze solution…" Spy spoke up and removed his disguise kit from inside of his suit, popping it open and after scanning it briefly he selected something and then turned Pyro away from everyone, shielding him from view. One puff of smoke and a couple satisfied words in French, Spy turned around a perfect replica of Scout, except wearing a blue shirt. "Now 'e can be your twin brother." Spy said, trying to hide his amusement. Scout scowled and stalked up to the familiar face.

The BLU Scout wasn't exactly his twin…he was a New Yorker which caused 90% of their arguments on the battlefield. He was taller than Scout with a bit more muscle up top, but his teeth were even more busted than his own. He didn't share Scout's blue eyes either, his were just as dark brown as his hair. Upon even further inspection, one could see a light dusting of freckles. The BLU Scout—no, Pyro, gave a grin and a little wave at everyone.

"Fine. Vhatever, let's just get a move on or ve're not going to get our bags through ze inspection in time." As soon as the words left Medic's mouth he nearly choked on them.

Their bags.

Their luggage.

Which contained grenades, rockets, other various explosives, knives, daggers, (there IS a difference), handguns, arrows, needles, a particularly bloody baseball bat, matches, gasoline, the ingredients for emergency Molotov cocktails, and various medical instruments of questionable intent.

Crap.

"Everything okay, Doktor?" Heavy questioned from where he was bringing up the rear, making sure Scout stopped shooting Pyro dirty looks.

"No. No, no, no, nein, everyzhing is not okay. Our luggage! How on earth are ve going to make it through security?" he said and everyone suddenly looked a bit pale and stiff.

"Well…let's just get in there and see," Engie said, sighing, glancing at his carry-on which housed the blueprints for a portable nuclear reactor. Medic nodded, tight lipped as he grabbed his own bag, not even daring to think the horrors he'd packed as they entered the airport.

It was large, as most airports go, and very shiny. Pyro giggled with wonder, a sound that caught them all off guard. It had come out as the BLU Scout's slightly-deeper-than-RED-Scout's chuckle, of course, so that put everyone even more on edge.

If there was one place that you weren't allowed to act weird, it was an airport.

Almost immediately they were approached by a security officer that stepped in front of Spy and gave him a disapproving look.

"Can I 'elp you, monsieur?" Spy said, gazing levelly at the stocky man.

"I'm afraid you're going to have to remove your headgear, _monsieur."_ He replied, really laying on the fake French accent. Spy immediately took to his act of embarrassment, flitting nervously with his hands, giving the routine 'injured in a demolitions accident' bit. After some hesitation, the guard permitted them to continue after he'd said something over his radio. As they walked away Pyro tried to lunge for his shiny badge but Scout grabbed his hand at the last second and yanked him back, grumbling something about how he wasn't no babysitter under his breath.

Medic swallowed as he saw the signs pointing the way to baggage inspection.

His fingers briefly flitted over the pocket in his carryon where he knew his bonesaw was. WHY he felt the need to bring it everywhere with him was beyond his knowledge but he felt safer with it there.

"I can get you right here, sirs!" A chipper female voice broke through the darkness of his worry that was beginning to creep on him and Medic turned towards the voice instinctively and nearly fainted with relief.

He knew that clipped, instructive tone and those thick framed glasses anywhere.

"Ms. Pauling…you had us all vorked up for no reason," Medic's whole body seemed to relax as he passed her his bag. She gave him a polite smile as she pretended to check it and did the same with all the other men.

"Got yourself a job at ze airport, I see," Spy said as he passed her his only bag—a very small leather bound briefcase.

"Well, you know. Gotta keep myself busy on the weekends, right?" she drummed her fingers on the desk she was behind momentarily as she regarded Spy and Medic who were still hovering around her, possibly awaiting some sort of instruction.

"Vell…ve'll just be going zhen, ja?" Medic punctuated his unnecessary question with a clearing of his throat, clasping his hands behind his back like he did so often.

"Try not to kill anyone. Try not to crash the plane…and try not to kill each other, okay guys?" She gave a small smile and touched Spy's shoulder and then Medic's, giving them a curt nod before clearing her throat. "You should go. I have a job to do." she turned to welcome other passengers as the two men walked off to find the rest of their team, hopefully being civilized members of society for once.

Fat chance.


End file.
